What You Gain in Giving Up
by Jessica Pendragon
Summary: She doesn't take it either, not anymore.


When he spots her across the battlefield, he is distracted by the pallor of her skin, the droop of her shoulders. The misstep in his attack is enough for his enemy to press forward and Cullen finds himself forced on the defensive. The continuous combat has made his limbs heavy, but he hasn't noticed the struggle until finally seeing it mirrored in her tired eyes.

The lyrium left in his veins sings a quiet, gentle song, coaxing him towards its promising power. It is getting easier to resist, to tune the tune out until there is silence, but in moments like these he is tempted. So very tempted. Cullen feels his skin prickle a second before ice encapsulates his opponent and freezes them in mid swing. Ellana is a flash of scarlet as she rushes forward, her blazing, spirit sword slashing through the air and scattering pieces of the enemy onto the ground.

She gives him a smile but it is strained. "Sorry for cutting in. I…" She sighs, stumbling forward, and he is quick to catch her. Her skin is cold yet glistening with sweat and the Templar he once was can recognize the signs.

"You've used too much, you're bottoming out."

"I just need a moment."

"You need lyrium." He notices there is none around her belt and turns to a nearby soldier.

"The Inquisitor requires lyrium potions."

"No!" Ellana clutches tight to his shoulder with surprising strength. "I will _not_ drink it, Cullen. I don't use it."

Even though his mind is muddled by his own fatigue, he can remember the Herald running through Haven with the blue bottles attached to her hip, can remember the smell of it on her breath as they leaned over the war table in Skyhold. He thought it might drive him mad to taste it on her lips for the first time a week ago, but there was only the dizzying rush of her.

"For how long?" he asks, although the answer is obvious by the way she glares at him.

Ellana takes a step closer, turning his supporting embrace into something softer. There's a blush returning to her cheeks and her eyes shine like the Fade is on fire inside. He can feel her renewed mana brushing up against him with soft, insistent touches, as strong as it ever is.

Ellana will never tell him how she foolishly worries that his affection is just another obsession born of necessity. How would she ever be sure he craves the taste of her tongue instead of the potion that sits upon it if she drank it? And how could she be so cruel, so selfish, to tease him with his own demons? She can't tell him that she loves him, not yet, but she would rather die than ever add to his suffering.

"We're in this together," she says instead and hopes it's enough. She laughs, glancing away when she sees his face smooth with loving sincerity. "Besides, the Dalish rarely ever have access to it so we've found other ways. I didn't start taking it in earnest until I joined the Inquisition. Horrible influences, the lot of you."

"Ellana…"

"We can talk about it later if you really want. Right now-"

"More incoming!" a scout's shout splits the air.

"Ellana," he says again, softer and deeper than before, and for a moment the battle disappears. _I love you_ sits on the tip of his tongue, because how could he not after everything, after this, but he holds it in for now. Cullen pulls her to him, pressing a quick kiss into her mouth instead, and there is more power in the gesture than any potion.

When they part, the Inquisitor brings her arms down and a barrier wraps around them both. It is a force to be reckoned with and whatever weakness once afflicted Ellana is gone as they face their charging enemy.

"I do want to talk about it, but you're right. After you, Inquisitor," Cullen says, standing tall at her side, smirking like he is a fresh recruit with limitless energy again.

"Why thank you, Commander." Ellana returns his grin before she wraps the Fade around herself. The battlefield shakes with her power as ice breaks through the ground and sunders their enemies. Cullen watches her charge forward, his support instead of his crutch, and is only a step behind.


End file.
